


Stock Exchange

by deerlux



Category: Homestuck
Genre: AU setting, Brotherly Affection, Gen, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-26
Updated: 2013-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-21 09:52:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/898897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deerlux/pseuds/deerlux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For months now, little bits of extra money have been slipping into your bank account. At first you just thought it was a screw up with the numbers. But when a hearty sum appears in the recent history, you know something's up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stock Exchange

You weren't too sure of the exact day you caught on to whatever kind of ironic joke this was Dave decided to play. But it was sometime during the beginning of Summer. At least you believe it was.

All you remember is sitting at your desk with beads of sweat clinging to the ends of your hair at your neck and heat pooling around you while you checked your bank account over again for the third time. Your calculations for the expected income and what was actually in the account weren't matching up, but it wasn't off by much. It never had been.

But that was when you knew something was up. Something was off and all those prior incidence of your numbers not matching had some connection to each other. And that connection had to do with something. And whatever that something was, also, had to do with Dave. That much was sure now. Because before it was never off by the hundreds, not like now.

Unless someone had decided to hack your account and do the opposite of what most people would do with that kind of info out of some bizarre kindness. Or it was God's doing, which you severely doubted for the simple fact that: if there even was a higher power, why the hell would he drop money into _your_ hands?

All other thoughts off the board, it had to trace back to your little bro. He was the only other person that had access to the account.

Hell, it had his design all over it and you felt a little slow for not having noticed sooner. The little shit. How long had he been doing this? The numbers had been off for months now. Far before the Summer had started. So long that you'd began to just assume there were calculation errors on the site or maybe your mind was slipping and your math was going rusty from age.

It had never been more than a hundred before. There'd be a fifty dollar difference one week, then maybe a ninety the next followed up with a thirty. Never was it over a hundred though. With that thought alone, and the extra eight hundred in the account, you just knew this had something to do with Dave.

Slipping money into the account without you noticing... You almost wanted to be proud that he was pitching in something that was anything other than his teenage bitching. But the whole thing was too suspicious. Honestly, where the hell was he even getting the money from? He didn't have a job, let alone go anywhere that required leaving his room or any place that wasn't attached to the apartment.

Something was definitely up.

Without delay, you stalked your way to his room, slamming his door open to search the room for him from behind dark, pointed shades. Your eyes settling on the immediate teenage irritation that greeted you when you met his own glare accompanied by a "Bro get the fuck out of my room the door being shut means it's a closed invitation and the lone member of this house party didn't send you an invite," followed up with a quick closing of a pesterchum window.

An action that you didn't really get. The both of you knew, that you knew, he was probably just messaging that boy toy of his again. Egbert, you think was the name. You vaguely remember him babbling on about him the most. Or the kid with the weird name, Karkat, maybe it was him. Not that you gave two shits who it really was.

His internet endevours weren't any concern of yours right now and with the firm crossing of your arms, silent reply and the small lift of your brow, he was aware of that immediately.

"Ok look, if this is about the horseshoes in the dishwasher I can explain."

"Rather you explain the extra eight hundred in my account."

And that there, the small waver of his expression and the way he held himself, how his lips twitch into a mixture of a frown and what came from him trying to force it back. A strange expression that showed just how resigned he was trying to be from the question. Even without being able to see the look in his eyes, Dave was always too responsive, the shades couldn't hide it completely. You knew the kid too well. There were always short moments you'd catch pure emotion on his face and this was one of those times.

He looked torn, like he was alright with the conversation taking place but still didn't want it to happen. Indecisive. Something that didn't suit him. Then again, with you looming over him threateningly, you didn't expect him to be anything less than hesitant.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Bullshit." You replied, taking a step further into his room and a step closer to him. The tone of your voice making him draw back in his computer chair. Or maybe it was the intense stare down at him that had him withdraw the way he did, pinning him to his seat.

"Drop the act. Where'd the money come from."

There's a good minute of silence and inner struggle with him. You can see it. It's written on all the places of his face that he couldn't hide behind his aviators and it's a battle you know he doesn't want to lose. He doesn't want to tell you for whatever reason he has. But probably because he knows you'll kick his ass for whatever the hell he was doing.

Another minute passes and you're just about to demand he "grow a pair and spit it out already," but he cuts you off before you even have the chance to voice that thought and begins to ramble on in that low mumbling, fast paced kind of way he has the tendency of doing.

"It's not what you think. I'm not selling drugs or anything illegal like that, ok I can't really say it's not illegal because I'm pretty sure it's illegal in possibly ten different ways, give or take. But hell who am I to know? Law isn't my thing. TZ would know better than me but she's in on this too and isn't saying either and fuck man if I've got the poster child of law on my case it can't be all that bad right. I mean really, it's not like it's hurting anyone and--"

"Get to the point, kid."

There's a pause and a glance up at you from him before he decided to continue at a much slower pace than previously.

"I'm not going to explain how I've been doing it but I've gained a monopoly on the stocks and I'm a legit sexillionare or septillionare or whatever, one of those huge made up titles for dudes with an ass load of cash so since I've got plenty to waste I've been wiring you chunk change. Depositing it into your account every week without saying anything."

He was rubbing at the back of his neck, fingernails scratching at the hair line as he shook his head, now. And you could have sworn there was a very small twitch of a smile on his lips but you were too surprised by all of it that you weren't paying too much attention. Since when was the kid good at things like that, he was barely able to turn homework in finished without a fuss. You knew he was a bright kid but you didn't think he had something like this up his sleeve; that was the main shocker.

"I must've fucked up the number and added an extra zero. Damn, I had a bet with Rose that you wouldn't catch on or find out for another six months that I lost. that's lame."

He was laughing now, nothing too loud or over the top, a few short puffs of air and it was over. Something that sounded nervous to you, uncertain about how you were reacting. You still hadn't said a word after all and here he was rambling on still, trying to explain himself without going into much detail.

"You're being quiet and pulling a lady gaga here bro because I'm tellin you I can't read your poker face right now even more than usual and it's kind of freaking me out. Look I just, I don't know, I wanted to do something for you after all you've done for me and I figured this was a start."

The two of you never struggled to live, you weren't poor, but there were times money was tight. Bills needed to be paid and Dave had a knack for developing expensive interests. Not that you were one to talk about expensive interests. But with the two combined and your not-so-cheap high rise, it put a damper on your wallet.

Even so, you got by with you just doing what you did best to make ends meet. Never complaining or mentioning it to Dave and yet, he'd noticed all along. He'd kept his eyes close on his big bro and noticed the little details of wear and tear.

How you'd be less motivated to strife some nights but would initiate them anyway to keep Dave on his toes. Or how he'd find you asleep in front of your laptop with your head tilted back on the couch and the brim of your hat covering part of your face, the screen paused on your puppet site, some nights after he'd gotten out of the shower. Or even how you never missed a "bring your parent to school day" despite the fact you weren't actually his parent and you'd been up until six am the night before at a DJ gig.

Not only that but now he was here returning the favor. Trying to give back a little of what you'd given him, in some backwards, ironic Strider way. Money couldn't buy love; he knew that. That was the irony he worked into this whole act.

You'd never been so proud of him before.

"You could'a just done the dishes, lil man." You finally said, voice cutting through the room making him jump as you stretched an arm out to ruffle the top of his head, mussing his hair up. "Would've saved you the ass kickin you're gonna get for breakin the law. Meet me on the roof. You've got five."

As impressed as you were at his skill of cheating the system and pulling one over on you for who knows how long, and despite how proud you were of him acting like an adult for once and wanting to give back to you, laws were laws and you weren't about to turn him in. So a strife, or as you worded it an ass kicking, was the only option.

An option you could tell he didn't mind all that much about judging by the eagerness you could see in him when he jumped from his seat to grab his blade out of his specibus moments before you flash-stepped out of sight. Lips quirking upward at the corners in a lop-sided smile. Showing just how you felt, sincere and genuine. Something he didn't get too often; something special before you turned the tables on him.


End file.
